


The Final Problem (Fate Is In The Way)

by arnon_bleyheart



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:19:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7608925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arnon_bleyheart/pseuds/arnon_bleyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not their first meeting, but even then Sherlock would never have seen it coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Problem (Fate Is In The Way)

**Author's Note:**

> So , this is kinda canon-compliant, but idk. Enjoy!

It’s not their first meeting, but even then Sherlock would have never seen it coming. The burn that he felt on his right hand, right on his mark when he sees him. Jim Moriarty, his soulmate. Both of them froze, just for a fraction of a second, before everything was back the way it was before. John still trembling and shaking in front of him, and Jim is grinning ear to ear. Sherlock maintained his composure ,and tried to keep himself from shuddering when Jim said,

“I’ll burn the heart out of you.”

And then Jim got a call, and left. He helped John on his feet, before returning back to their shared flat.

The closest he got to Jim after that was through Irene Adler, and that too had only been the mention of his name, but Sherlock can’t help it. His mark burned ,and his hand quickly shot up to cover it. Mycroft turned towards him, and stared at him like he know. But he did, he always does, and never said anything. He quickly regained his composure, saved Ms.Adler after, and try to think about her, instead of him.

Then the call came, and his phone chimes, and Jim’s all over the news. He watched telly all day long that day.  
He testifies on the court, giving the world a piece of his mind about Jim Moriarty, a spider, in the middle of a criminal web. He never shared a fact, the only fact that matters to him, theirs.

“I felt we had a special something.”

He gave them a subtle hint, something that their ordinary brain will never caught, but he saw Jim, in the corner of his eye, smiling and holding in his laughter. He tried not to let his smile grew, even though he really wanted to.

He defied the judge and the prosecutor for their ridiculous questions, and got locked up, and freed later by John, his ever loyal friend, and went back to their flat.  
He picked up his violin, and played it, rearranging his thoughts. He stops when the stairs let out a creaking noise, and listened to the silence that comes after, knowing Jim was also doing the same thing. Sherlock has been expecting him, waiting for him eagerly even though he didn’t let it show. So he picked up where he left off, carefully slipping the mask of indifference on his face.

Jim didn’t knock, even though most people would, but then again Jim is never just “most people’. He’s an exception, and their bond is a pleasant miscalculation. Jim sat on the chair, his chair, and Sherlock let himself feel a small sense of possessiveness before pushing the feeling aside. They talk, and Jim gave him hints, and riddles , and he never liked riddles. He can see Jim trying to keep his own façade of ‘not caring’, but Sherlock can see right through him, the bond made his instinct stronger. He lets him carry on with his plan, with the fall,and then Jim is leaving, promising him a fall, and his mark burned all over again like the first time they bonded.

(Jim left his apple and knife behind, and Sherlock kept it both, the knife in his pocket and the apple in the freezer.)

He traced his mark everyday, without even thinking about it, until John made a comment about it.  
“Does your mark hurt? You keep on touching it, I can check it for you.” He offered, like the good friend he is,but Sherlock can’t afford him to know, or else everything will be ruined. The fall, and his plans, so he lied.

“It’s nothing, I picked it up from the crap telly.”

John didn’t believe him, because he’s not stupid, and Sherlock rarely watch the telly, but he didn’t press, and Sherlock is silently thankful.  
But then Jim Moriarty was all over the news again, only this time as an actor, Richard Brook. And he is suddenly the bad guy, the fraud detective. Sherlock get the joke, even though he had to run away.

When he rode the taxi, he knew it was Jim who is driving, his mark is throbbing, and his heartbeat accelerate, because it’s Jim, and he missed him, even though it was ridiculous.

(He never calculated the video, and felt flattered that Jim put effort in making a video for him, even though the video was meant to be insulting and hurtful.)

Jim left him on the streets, and Sherlock only caught a glint of his face before the cab was vast gone, and he was left aching for Jim, for his soulmate, to see and touch. Sherlock pushed those feelings far in the corner of his mind.

His phone chimed, and he read the message. They met at the rooftop, and Sherlock saw him, his soulmate. They locked eyes and then his heartbeat quickened, his pupils dilated,and he can see the same symtomps on Jim, even though the man tried to cover it up with a bored façade. Jim revealed everything to him, and he played dumb, following through with what Jim planned, even though he knows what will happen. When they shook hands, sparks flies through his body, and then Jim jerked his hand back. Both of them looked at each other for a moment, before Sherlock lunged at him, pulling Jim against him, and attacked those red lips that he had dreamed more than once. Jim pushed on his chest, trying to get away, but Sherlock didn’t falter. He slide his arms down to Jim’s waist, holding his destined in place. Jim seemed to give up his fight, because he loosened , his mouth opening, giving access for Sherlock to explore and claim, his hand clinging on Sherlock’s broad shoulder. They pulled away, and Sherlock immediately attack Jim’s pale neck, kissing it with such force it will bruise tomorrow, and Jim lets out a whine, and tilted his head to the side.  
Sherlock pulled away sometimes later, and they both leaned onto each other, their foreheads touching. Sherlock felt his mark burning but he didn’t move, he smiled softly at Jim, and for the first time, Jim smiled back.


End file.
